


She's Lost Count

by crieshavoc



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Voyeurism, cophine - Freeform, progeek, prophine implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:12:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3150146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crieshavoc/pseuds/crieshavoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: progeek + voyeurism</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Lost Count

“Rachel?”

                The blonde, seated with an extremely strong drink in her hand, startles. Rachel turns in her chair, horrified. She expects to see disgust and hatred on the other woman’s face, but Cosima looks… amused, which just might be worse. Rachel is stunned, frozen in place, and then she is scrambling for the remote, pausing the tape. _This is not happening._

                It is. Happening. Cosima takes a few steps into the room and Rachel thinks she’s trying not to _laugh_.

                “What do you want? How did you get in here?” Rachel sets her drink down, miraculously without spilling as her hands begin to shake. She folds them in her lap, back straight and eyes wide.

                Cosima turns in a slow circle, taking in the box of a room where one wall is a screen, from ceiling to floor. The small table and single chair. The occupant of that chair. She raises her hand and waves her access pass, tilting her head and _smiling_. “I was looking for you, actually. I was…” she turns on one heel, glancing at the screen again, “I was hoping we could talk, but if you’re _busy_ , I could come back later.”

                Rachel feels herself flushing, feels her blood rush even harder and wants to _die_ from the embarrassment of being _caught_ like this. She clears her throat, uncrossing and crossing her legs, stalling for time. Her throat is dry. “What did you wish to speak about?” _Pretend nothing is wrong. Maybe Cosima has some sense of tact_.

                Cosima has _no_ sense of tact. “Never mind _that_ , _now_ I want to talk about _this_.” She gestures to the screen, grinning almost… dangerously. “Does this count as monitoring? Watching Delphine and me have sex in my lab?” She’s laughing, but her eyes are narrowed. She’s wary of Rachel, to be sure, but _curious_.

                Rachel tries to maintain eye contact, tries not to let it show how _uncomfortable_ she is, but she isn’t at all sure she’s doing a good job. She isn’t at all sure what to say or how to evade Cosima’s question. She wonders if distraction will work, doubting the tactic before she begins. “You have good taste, physically at least,” Rachel offers, without a clear idea of the kind of response she expects.

                “Thanks,” Cosima raises one eyebrow, lifting the side of her mouth in a display of teeth that is almost… predatory. She glances from Rachel to the screen and back again. “Are you jealous?” She asks, her tone suggesting that she’s teasing rather than boasting, though it could be both.

                Rachel scoffs, instinctively, “Hardly.” As if Rachel would be _jealous_ of anything Cosima has. As if Rachel could afford such trivial emotions. The very thought is _absurd_.

                “So, what,” Cosima begins to pace the room again, fingers twirling and dancing as she speaks, “you just like to watch?” She stops behind Rachel’s chair.

                Fighting the urge to spin around, Rachel reaches for her drink to buy time. She almost chokes.

                _“Co-si-ma!”_

                Delphine’s moans are audible again. Cosima places the remote back where it _was_. She stands behind Rachel’s chair and, in her silence, _dares_ Rachel to pick it up.

                Rachel doesn’t. She’s too busy fighting the urge to cough. Fighting the urge to _touch_ , as she normally would. Fighting against her rising blood and the added thrill of Cosima’s presence.

                “How many times have you watched this?” Cosima asks, standing close enough to put her hands on Rachel’s shoulders.

                Rachel doesn’t answer, not simply because she doesn’t want to, but because _she’s lost count_.

                Her silence doesn’t seem to bother Cosima. No, not at all. Cosima does put her hands on Rachel’s shoulders, leaning over to speak into the blonde’s ear, “Do you get off watching me go down on Delphine? Do you sit in here and _fuck_ yourself, watching us?” Her voice is throaty, raw, and deceptively soft.

                Rachel wants to put her drink down again. Her hands are shaking. She breathes through her nose in an attempt to mask the fact that she’s practically _panting_. Like an _animal_. Her eyes flutter, but she doesn’t close them.

                Cosima presses a gentle kiss to the shell of Rachel’s ear.

                Rachel _shudders_.

                “I’m down for a threesome if you are, blondie. I’m sure I could talk Delphine into it,” Cosima rasps, squeezing Rachel’s shoulders before letting go. She picks up the remote again, tapping the volume higher. And then she leaves, chuckling.

                She leaves Rachel _squirming_ in her chair and spilling vodka on the floor.


End file.
